I twiddle my pencil, scanning my mind for my next move. It doesn’t take long. I swipe my phone up and dial Mikael. I don’t even register it ringing before his smooth, mildly accented voice comes down the line. “Ava, how very good to hear from you.”
“I’m sure,” I reply dryly. “Did you manage to sort your divorce out?” I go straight for the jugular and judging by the silent span of time that follows my question, I’ve succeeded in my strategy.
“I did,” he says cautiously.
“Oh good. What can I do for you, Mikael?” I’m stunned by my own confidence. I could be dealing with a lunatic here, and I’m talking to him with absolutely no respect, as a client or as a potential lunatic.
He laughs lightly. “It’s time we met, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t,” I retort briskly. “I think we both know that our business relationship is over, Mr. Van Der Haus.”
“Why ever would that be?”
His question stops me in my tracks, but I soon gather myself. “You said it was very interesting that I’d been seeing Jesse for a month-ish.” I’m not shying away from this.
“Yes, except now you’re married to him and expecting his twins. I’m brokenhearted, Ava.”
I don’t gather myself so quickly this time. How the hell does he know? “Mr. Van Der Haus—” I’m sure to keep my voice down, scanning the office constantly. This isn’t the time or the place, but I’ve started now. I’m not finishing this conversation until I’ve said what needs to be said. I get up, beating away balloons, and pace into the conference room, shutting the door behind me. “Is this about Jesse and your wife?” I know I hear a falter in his breathing, and it boosts my confidence. “Because I already know, so you’re wasting your time.”
“Oh, Mr. Ward’s been confessing?”
“Your ex-wife turned up at Jesse’s home, Mikael. I’m sorry for what has happened, but I don’t see what this is going to achieve.” I’m not sorry at all, but maybe, just maybe, I can make him see sense.
He laughs, and it prickles at my deeply bronzed skin. “Ava, I couldn’t care less about my ex-wife. She’s a money-grabbing whore. I care only for your well-being. Jesse Ward is not the right man for you.”
I flinch at his harsh referral to his wife and rest my backside on the edge of the conference table. “And you are?” I stammer over the words, mentally scolding myself for showing any hesitance. He cares for my well-being?
“Yes, I am,” he says candidly. “I won’t entertain other women behind your back, Ava.”
I nearly drop my phone. He knows that, too?
“Nevertheless”—I’m desperately trying to find my stride again—“I think too much has happened for us to continue working together.”
“Too much has happened?” he asks. “And you know what he got up to when he left you?”
“Yes,” I grate, wondering how the hell he knows. I’ve managed to keep that issue quiet. “My relationship with Jesse has nothing to do with you, Mikael. I know what he did.” It kills me to say it. “I’ll be speaking to Patrick and withdrawing from The Life Building project. You’re welcome to take my designs and have someone else see the contract through.” I hang up and exhale a relieved breath. I don’t know why I feel like a weight has been lifted when I’ve still got to tell Patrick, and listening to Mikael for the last few minutes has stirred more questions. I’m not sure whether I would put my life on it, but I don’t think he would go to the extremes of drugging me and trying to ram me from the road, not if he wants to take me away from Jesse so I can be with him. What use am I dead? I laugh out loud in my own little private moment of comprehension. Someone tried to kill me. This is insane.
My phone dances in my hand and a quick glimpse at my screen tells me my day has only just begun. Dealing with Ruth Quinn at the moment, though, doesn’t seem like such a chore. “Hi, Ruth.”
“Ava!” She sounds surprised. “You never said that you were going away.”
“Last minute, Ruth. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, fine, but I’ve changed my mind on the cabinets for the kitchen. Can we meet to discuss?”
“Of course.” I only just suppress my sigh. “I’ve got piles of paperwork to get through, so can we say tomorrow?”
“Twelve?” she counters, not demanding today, which is a pleasant surprise.
“I’ll see you then, Ruth.” I hang up feeling empowered, like I’m taking charge of things rather than letting them take charge of me.